Meet the BLU Team
by EagerImmediately
Summary: Life for anyone on Builders League United may not be as filled with success as their counterpart, but it's certainly a lot more colorful.
1. They Get the Job Done, Sometimes

**Disclaimer:** The Stock setting, Classes, Characters, and Backstory of TF2 belong to VALVe, not us. The character interpretations, random storylines, and purchased hats, however, do.

This is going to be the spot where all our pieces for TF2 will go, (Though since Scout is more of a semi nerd over the game compared to me, most of this will be mine) and with some work, hopefully it'll mold into some semblance of a proper story. It'll have a little man love, and most likely some het somewhere, though I'm not sure just when.

I want to apologize in advance for: Accents, Poorly Translated Languages, Confusing Present Timeline (because we were too lazy to use the real one), having Pauline as a random Secretary instead of simply having a random secretary, lvl 2 sentries, our Spy (No, really. Sorry about him), calling maps maps, and making maps more confusing than they should be.

* * *

><p><strong>Danny, BLU Scout:<strong> Born to a family of seven older sisters, the fights that resulted from the Douchebags of the Day breaking their hearts were never-ending. Danny had his hands full keeping the men that entered each one's life on the straight and narrow, but he was always one to face a challenge. His cocksure attitude is simply a side effect of that, immature outlook notwithstanding. But hey, he'll be sure to run past that one RED that's destroying his team to annoy another no one cares about.

**Percival, BLU Pyro:** Having always had an affinity for fire, Perry never really found an affinity for interacting with others well. He certainly got enough talk on right versus wrong as a child and makes it a part of life to remember the rules, but in the end, it seems he fails to make those around him happy even with that. Though it's certainly not for want of trying. In the end, his mask and flamethrower, Daisy, give him the surest sense of security, purpose, and direction. And for now, that's more than good enough. Rule 1: Only burn the RED team. Rule 2: Only do this when it's mission time. Rule 3: Use the compression blast Engineer gave you to put out BLUs on fire. Do NOT stare. (it only makes them mad at you after)

**Red, BLU Soldier:** There is nothing wrong with this name. There is nothing wrong with this name. ...There is nothing wrong with this name. It's not as if anyone _knows_, right? Fine, that's just fine then. He's a BLU Soldier, dammit! He wears his colors with pride, just as every good patriot should. Okay, he may not always be up at the right time, or have his rocket launcher loaded. But it's the *thought* that counts!

**Duncan, BLU Demoman:** There is nothing wrong with wearing a kilt. Insult it again, mate, and you'll be missing an eye too. Honestly, Duncan sometimes believes he's the most mature one of the group, even their Engie has been known to kiss and coo to his toys on occasion. Duncan on the other hand, handles his own job with finesse and experience. It's not like one needs full attention to blow a person up, slipping in a peek at a comic here and there won't hurt. But if the team catches it it's 'oh, you're gonna get us shot', or, 'oh, you blew up the common room', or 'oh, it isn't real, how about you focus on taking out some REDs'.

This is why he drinks. And the TARDIS is _quite_ real, thank you very much.

**Wyatt, BLU Engineer:** He's a problem solver by nature. His RED counterpart may have the lady up top's favor and a nicer resume, but Wyatt was born with ingenuity, something that has served him in life better than a paper could any day. Nothing is a lost cause to him, everything has some purpose, even when the original one has run out. And he always aims to expose it. He is often the voice of reason on the team and it is for that very rationale. Because even the dullest stone can shine in the right light.

Except Pyro. That boy is an honest to God nutcase and if he tries to dress up the turret and dispenser _one more time_, drastic action will need to be taken.

**Siegward, BLU Medic:** There are few things more enjoyable than tending to his aquarium and experim-treating his patients. That is, when they actually come to his clinic. Honestly, suggest adding gills to a person and they clam right up as if you were asking to give them extra hands. The very idea is just ridiculous! Now, _small_ hands are actually feasible, better blood flow and ease of placement. But getting them is another thing.

Really, he'd much rather stay in his clinic all day than be outside, pointing a gun at teammates and having them run away and expect him to keep up. As if he cared, not when there are body parts that need to be put on ice from the RED team.

**Irvine, BLU Sniper:** Ego? Isn't he that hunchback bloke in Frankenstein wot's on the telly every once in a while? Irvine has always had a strong, steady aim in spades and an even stronger opinion, on just about everything. He may not be the nicest man around, or the most humble, but he can and will (frequently) assure you that he can shoot that bottle on the fence a mile away. No, really. He can.

**Antoine, BLU Spy:** Ever the slightest bit bitter and sadomasochistic, Antoine is a man that is plagued by paranoia. Everyone is out to get him in one way or another, and if they're not, then it's most likely because he hasn't done something to make them want to just yet. His wrists are covered with cloaking watches, some that don't even work anymore. But just because he has a new upgrade does not mean that he should just throw away the others, right? Sooner or later, they will short and fail him. Just like people, really.

**Yefim, BLU Heavy:** A giant man that is mistaken for simple minded by the fact that English is his 4th language and in effect, not his best. He's a gourmet at heart and takes pleasure in preparing new dishes, and as many as possible. Eating in the field during mission time - he has found - is heavily frowned upon. But you gotta do what you gotta do. (He's learned that certain dishes are less suitable than others. Soup, for instance, is not a good dish to be having at that time)

The only thing more dear to him than his gun and food is 'his' medic, a man who he can't seem to keep alive, even from himself it seems. But aim was never one of Yefim's strong points.

**Morgan, BLU Lady Scout: **Granddaughter of an infamous Italian mafia leader, her connections made it possible for this short-fused woman to get on BLU. But her resolve to obsessively try and cap, even when that's not the objective, has made her BLU teams best 'Target'. Needless to say, while RED team may love her, her own team is less than pleased.

**Shelby, BLU Lady Engineer:** Growing up in the south always had its ups and downs, but it wasn't until dear old Uncle Wyatt made her a BLU that her life really took a turn for the worst - no, she shouldn't say that. Frankly, she was caught with her pants down and was busier than a stump-tailed cow at fly time. But, even through her troubles, she was convinced that with a sprinkle of Texan hospitality, southern cooking, and exploding tomahawks – everyone's life would be a little easier.


	2. Not quite Best

**- but still Adequate Little Slaughterhouse in Texas**

A/N: I should add 'abusing/overusing game responses' to our apology. I really should, but they're too much fun to use and too good to go to waste. One can have a full, though bizarre, conversation with voice commands alone.

* * *

><p>With a grunt, Engineer shoved the heavy toolbox back into the shelf he'd pulled it from, letting out another breath of air as he stretched his back.<p>

He was going to feel this in the morning, at least, before he got a dose of the medigun from Medic. And only if the man was amiable enough, which he was sure he could pass anyway. If not, his dispenser would just have to do. Pulling the string on the lamp by his work desk, he walked out of the smaller room, into the main area of his shop.

He stretched, running a palm over his tired face and giving the place a once over. The clock on the wall read twenty past twelve. Not too bad. Not too bad. He'd have a good while to rest now, at least, if Shelby arrived in the morning. But her flight had landed by now, which meant that her ride over here would be in the next hour at most. So pushing back a chair, he grabbed his mug of cold coffee and dumped it out. Setting out to make a fresh pot with the grind he'd gotten last week. It wouldn't last this one.

He'd always preferred tea, to be perfectly honest. A cup of oolong would have hit the spot. But this last month he'd needed the black brew to handle his job. And his team.

Speaking of which.

Engineer glanced over at his old couch, which was currently being occupied by a young man, dead to the world as it was at the moment. Pyro, Who'd fallen asleep again in the shop again. Running a hand through the curly blond hair of the kid, he sat on the edge of the cushions. Waiting for the coffee to finish brewing just as the phone rang.

"Well, that'd be her alright."

Suggesting that she apply as an engineer here might not have been the best idea he'd had in his life. Or hers, since she'd thought of it as brilliant. But it was a little late to be having second thoughts.

* * *

><p>"Hi there, I'm Shelby!" she said, giving a warm smile to the woman sitting before her. "I guess I'm here for my hard hat."<p>

The woman smiled back and nodded, her hand already reaching for the dials of the phone. In the back of her mind, Shelby hoped it wasn't for security. "Yes, I know who you are. One moment, please."

The office itself was far from quaint. A plastic palm tree here and a few chairs there, but when does that ever make a place feel cozy? Everything smelled like it'd been sprayed down with chemicals, the chairs wrapped in plastic tenfold.

On the behalf of asthmatics and people struggling with plastaphobia, the entire office was just an accident waiting to happen. If she had either of those medical conditions, she'd be flying off the handle faster than two shakes of a sheep's tail.

As for Miss Pauling – her name quietly noted from the name plate on the desk – spoke into the phone, Shelby found herself distracted by the thought of swapping the sticky plastic for something more durable. They could try bubble wrap, but that would still be plastic in the long run... Funner, but still plastic.

Rubber.

But that might upset all the astihophobia's...

They could all sit on the floor, sure, on those neat little quilts with all the pretty patterns. Maybe set some throw pillows around the room. But that might be a little dirty for some people, like germaphobes or... people who don't want to sit on the floor! Shelby could only imagine the poor elderly and their uncanny inability to ever get up.

"Your tour guide should be with you in a moment."

"Tour guide? If that ain't the berries, I don't know what is. I'll just go wait outside, then, this place gives me the jeepers creepers. Buh-bye now!"

* * *

><p>Engineer pushed the door to the main entrance open, spotting his niece waiting outside the front entrance. She looked lost in space as usual, and it gave him a good dose of nostalgia. Memories of thanksgiving, Christmas, of birthdays and fishing trips. Teaching her how to ride the ponies from a friends ranch. Teaching her how to fix generators and cars. Before they blew up due to her own special touches, of course.<p>

He smiled, watching her as she studied the boards outside the office. Her hair was still done up in thick pigtails from the looks of it. A habit that'd never gone away.

"How's life been treating you, Peaches?"

* * *

><p>Outside the office hung a cork board. All things considered, it was probably hanging on any old common nail. A gypsum nail would suit it much better, maybe with a flat counter-sink. Every thumbtack is a bland metal, something that could easily be made both colorful and proficient.<p>

If it weren't for being so indecisive, she would have been an interior decorator.

Chrome was always a pretty color – her favorite, even - but sometimes... well, it wouldn't hurt anybody if you dressed it up a little.

Her eyes scan over a map of the facility, noting every corner and every door. When it came to directions, a photographic memory was always useful. She glanced at the dates and the special mentions around it, a meeting on the ninth, cleaning ladies wanted you out of the room by ten, lunch served at twelve...

"How's life been treating you, Peaches?"

Shelby turns at the familiar voice, and she gives him a beaming smile – as usual – leaning back on her heels. "Oh, you know, a little-a-this and a little-a-that! I've seen better days... Gosh, you're a site for sore eyes, Wyatt."

* * *

><p>He barked a laugh at that and drew her into a warm hug, unmindful that it might have been a bit strong. After a moment, he pulled back, hands around her arms as he appraised her.<p>

"Come on, we'll drop your bags at your room and have a drink in the shop."

With that, she slipped an arm around his own as he lead her past the first set of doors.

The map they'd been issued to this month was a payload one. Upward.

Most of the day, the winds were so strong on the cliffsides, that everyone could hear them while tucked inside their base. They'd worn at the construction of the buildings, and because of that, there was a cool draft in the evenings wherever they went. For this reason alone, most people preferred hanging out in the common room, one of the few places that had decent heating, apart from his shop, the bathrooms, and cafeteria.

At the moment, anyone that was still up would be in there (and from the sounds of it, that'd be Scout, Morgan, and Sniper, arguing over the low hum of some episode on the tv). He didn't stop there to introduce them, partly out of greediness (He hadn't seen his niece in a dogs age) and partly out of wanting to not cause a ruckus. Morgan wasn't the most friendly to new recruits, especially female ones. And Scout and Sniper could certainly wait, lord knows this group was special enough without adding Shelby to its mix.

He led her to her room, where they dropped off the bags before locking up again. As it was, the room wasn't anything special. Being just that, a cold bedroom with a closet. The only thing giving any character to it being the window shutters battering against themselves at the moment.

A minute later and they'd made it to his shop, where he opened the unlocked door and relaxed slightly with the heat from his makeshift steam that crept out.

"Well, Peaches, home sweet home. Don't mind Pyro, it was a long day."

* * *

><p>"I could get used to this!" Shelby commented as she noted the heat and the natural smell of metal. She used the term loosely, as metal didn't have a smell, but was in fact just the body odor of the last being who touched it. The same could be said for a penny! Due to a chemical compound in your skin, it transformed into a smelly coating always associated with copper, metal, or iron.<p>

But that was just a fun fact she'd picked up from a newspaper clipping.

As Shelby leaned over the couch to peer at Pyro, her hands instantly began to fiddle with the end of her braid. It was a nervous habit she'd picked up as a child, and she'd never been able to drop it. When she blinked over his sleeping face, her hands quickly dropped from the hair.

Sitting in a recliner nearby, she folded her legs underneath her. "So... he's here a lot? Poor dear looks beat."

"Only every other day, I'm positive that kid is trying to drive me crazy." Though his tone over it was half-hearted. Engineer didn't bother to elaborate, she'd notice soon enough. Then again, with his niece's special tendencies, she may very well not until he'd helped destroy her projects a few dozen times. And even then, it might just earn a short sigh and a very confused Percival.

Oh, this kid was going to _love _her.

He went to the fridge to pull out some drinks, cola since she wasn't a big fan of coffee or tea. Popping the caps off both bottles, he handed one to her and pulled up a seat from him desk. Nodding to the shells of sentries/dispensers and other projects as he did so.

"Well, you'll be briefed about that in the morning anyway, just stay with me and I'll help you out." He didn't bother telling her not to panic, it'd do no good if she never knew quite how. "So how's everyone doing?"

But his question was cut short as an alarm set off around them, shocking all three of them in the shop and effectively taking Engineer right out of his mood.

So much for catching up now.

* * *

><p>As Shelby gently griped the coke, the pads of her finger tips felt the damp chill of the aluminum. Her lips folded to the curve of the cylinder, the fuzz traveling thickly down her throat. She squinted, her eyes watering from the bite.<p>

"So how's everyone doing?"

"Pretty good-" She was cut off by the obnoxiously loud ringing in her ears. The coke in her hand nearly spilled, the liquid sloshing in the tin can. Drawing what she could from her knowledge of the human ear, Shelby deducted that... loud sounds hurt. Her words splattered like a ball of paint hitting a white canvas, running down the page in a disorderly fashion. "Oh my lord, what is that God awful thing? Did I do it?"

Without any further instructions, or any that she could care to notice over the ringing and initial shock, she'd been handed a shotgun. The ringing ceased, a pregnant pause hugging the room.

She didn't know how to make a thing yet. Not a single thing that they would need. And if she tried, it would be a disaster of... frankly, disastrous proportions. She knew about the respawn, though she still didn't trust it a lick, so all she could really do was try her best and have fun with it!

Like an adventure!

A loud, omnipotent, murderous adventure.

* * *

><p>"Now I would normally tell you to stay put, but it'd be better for you to come along and watch. Just stay close behind and I'll show you a few things now," Engineer said, grabbing what looked to be a regular toolbox, at least it would to her. The respawner had been already been set for her for around a week now, as it was for new recruits in case of situations just like this. One could never be too careful.<p>

Behind them Pyro had sat up in panic, quickly recognizing the alarm for what it was and searching for his mask. "I'm up, don't leave me here but I need Daisy first."

From his still-tired ramblings, the young man looked up and finally noticed the extra person in the room. Greens eyes looked her over in puzzlement, temporarily forgetting the alarms and mask in his hand in lieu of discomfort. "There's a girl here."

"That there is," Engineer answered, handing one of the dispenser toolboxes to Shelby as they could all hear whooping in the hallway now, as well as a shout of 'GUTS AND GLORY!' from Duncan.

"Why is there a girl here."

"Bye," Engineer sing-songed, as he made to jog out the door, Shelby close after.

Giving only an extra pause as he noticed that he was about to be left behind, Pyro quickly pulled his mask on and grabbed Daisy from the desk, running to catch up after the two.

* * *

><p>Shelby firmly grasped the toolbox, keeping it safely folded between her arms and chest. There was nothing else to do, and she'd be darned if she failed on the first day. Her job, at the moment, was to follow her uncle and assist him at whatever he was doing.<p>

Simple enough.

She kept close to his side, hovering as they raced out of the workshop. Clearly, following Wyatt was not as simple as she thought. Not only did she have to follow, she had to a number of things! Like not tripping, not dropping things, watching his back, and not dying. And that was hard.

The outside was complete and utter chaos. Blood seeped into concrete, bodies sprinkling the area with ease. And maybe that was exaggerating, and most of them were Blu's, but still! The evaporation of corpses would take some getting used to as well... but she could do it!

Shelby was assigned the 'Watch for the Red Spy' mission. Truth be told, this made her feel a little more than discomfort. How could you hit something you couldn't see? However difficult it seemed, Shelby had to make the best of it. Because she had told herself have fun, and that's just what she was going to do!

With quick thinking, she plucked a wrench from the toolbox. She noticed how chugged full her hands felt when she gripped it.

She swung it.

After all, even a blind hog finds an acorn now and then.

It was fish or cut bait, and she simply refused to sit like a bump on a log while Wyatt did all the work.

Anything within a few feet would be hit, her feet pacing back and forth with light swings at each step. True, she looked like a fool and Spies were starting to feel about as scarce as a hens teeth, but so far... it was working!

And she'd get shot.

Probably.

But that was okay. Every dog had a few flees, anyways. So what if multitasking wasn't her specialty?

* * *

><p>He was quick to set up his lvl 2 sentry (considering that this was a most uninvited visit from the other team, he saw no reason why he had to adhere to the restrictions on pre-upgraded buildings) where she could overlook the battlements where most of the action was currently taking place.<p>

She'd barely had time to unfurl and settle before they caught a bite. Snack-sized.

Veering sharply as her auto-targeting locked on, and as the barrels began to roll, Engineer had just enough time to recognize the person that had just been torn apart by his biggy bitty. One of the two RED scouts. The more annoying one to boot, oh he just loved shooting his way up here and taking down the buildings before they'd even been set up, before handing Irvine's ass to him on a silver platter.

Engineer chuckled and passed his hand over the heated metal of his sentry, now smoking. "Gotcha, stretch! Y'aint too fast for me and my machines tonight, are ya? Now you're dead, just the way I like it."

He let out a pleased chuckle at the mess left smeared on the wall, damn that felt good. Turning to Shelby, he gave a relaxed grin despite the battle-cries and fighting around them. "Now you see, Peaches, that's the way you handle those little...what are you doing?"

"If I keep swinging this thing around, then the Spy can't get near us without me jumpin' on him like a duck on a Junebug."

"Well, that's one way of getting the job done, I suppose."

Really, he would have just used his pistol or wrangler, but slapping one of those bastards across their skull with a heavy duty wrench was just as good as shooting them full of lead. There was more than one way to take out a rat, and he wasn't about to get picky so long as they were dead.

Below them he could just make out Pyro running in after a few REDs, along with Demoman. Not a second later and he heard the telltale sound of the flamethrower being unleashed on their sorry hides, and not even a minute after that, the smell of burnt flesh drifted up.

"Makin Bacon."

No sooner had he said that then he heard a cry behind him, practically a yelp. Whipping around, he watched as his niece frantically beat the air with her wrench, landing a blow on a certain cloaked gentleman before the sorry bastard moved out of her reach. But Shelby kept trucking, determined to finish him off.

Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her back and pulled out his wrangler. Let's see how far he could hide from a good old fashioned corral. "Ya'll about to have a real bad day."

"Nooo, SIR!" That was, until the RED soldier rocket jumped up to their point. He could safely say that was when everything fell apart and balance was restored to the universe.

Well, it'd been good while it'd lasted.

* * *

><p>No afterlife.<p>

No white light.

Just a squeaky clean room with piled ammo and first aid kits, a blinking light illuminating the main exit. For them, it would be the circle of life. An interesting, inconsistent circle... but a circle. An oval, maybe.

The 'Respawn' was very... scientific! Very new, very interesting, and a labyrinth of mechanical architecture.

"Cazzo, non posso credere che questa merda!" said a dark haired woman who spawned beside her, pumping her gun full of lead before storming away. She appeared again not a moment later, her tail feathers ruffled in so many directions that she might as well have gone back on her raisin...

Shelby had quickly learned that the respawn was not known as the futuristic wonder... but, more or less, the losers bench.

* * *

><p>The rush of respawn hit him like a wave and before Engineer could figure out just how he'd died this time, he was already in their spawn room again.<p>

Sitting up, he patted down his pockets, hoping he'd managed to bring his building tracker with him in all the excitement. Hopefully whatever had gotten him hadn't managed to take down his sentry or dispenser. With a sigh of relief, he felt the familiar shape of it tucked away in one of his pouches and made to pull it out. Turning it on, he let his hand fall back into his lap, seeing that his buildings hadn't survived either.

"Well, that could've gone a sight better," he muttered, pocketing the device once more. "Shelby?"

Beside him, his niece had also respawned, looking just the slightest bit shaken up. Rubbing her back, he let out another sigh. "Well, I guess you'll have to get used to that. It happens quite a bit here."

The respawn machine around them churned again, before Sniper appeared right beside them, not looking nearly as calm about the situation. Right before Demoman appeared as well.

"We're a sorry buncha losers," the scotsman growled, before breaking out into a sob and falling back, only serving to put the other off.

"Should've saved a bullet for some of you blokes!"

"I did what I could!"

"Welcome to BLU team, Shelby."


End file.
